No End
by ArkadyRose
Summary: Inspired by the final chapter of Emma Vieceli's "Sign of the Maker" fanfic  DeviantART , an alternative version of the aftermath of the Chantry's destruction. Spoilers for DA2.


It had all been taken out of his hands.

The dwarf child's words had reverberated through his mind with the clarity of a golden bell. He had no choice; indeed, it was now obvious there had never been a choice to begin with.

_At last you understand._

"Yes, old friend," Anders murmured quietly as he moved steadily through the throngs of people. He found himself silently wondering at them; how they moved about their daily lives, so oblivious. So blind.

As he himself had been blind until a hour ago.

He walked through the gate into the courtyard of the Tower and paused for a moment, taking in the scene before him. Orsino glanced away from Meredith, and she followed his gaze, eyes narrowing in hatred at the apostate. Hawke turned to follow their glances; his eyes gentling and a smile beginning to curve his lips as he opened his mouth to greet Anders. Anders took in that smile and for a moment, a part of him screamed denial of what was to come. Then Justice reached out to silence it even as Anders spoke.

"The Grand Cleric cannot help you."

"Explain yourself, mage!" snapped Meredith, turning to face him.

"I will not stand by and watch you treat all mages like criminals, while those who would lead us bow to their templar jailors," he replied, glancing at Orsino who bristled. He felt a moment's pity for the elf even as he felt Justice rising within him to quash the sentiment. _No mercy. No compromise._ He felt the spirit energy licking out across his skin as Justice spoke through him.

And it was done. No mercy. No half measures. No compromise.

It was out of his hands.

And then the world ended in red actinic flame and destruction.

* * *

><p>He sat still and waited for death.<p>

He was distantly aware of arguing behind him; Sebastian demanding his death. He supposed it would perhaps be fitting if the Prince were the one to deal the last blow; certainly he'd given him reason enough. He stared sadly at his hands. Sebastian had extended the hand of friendship to him, and in return he had destroyed his life.

Sebastian's departing footsteps rang out on the cobbles even as his last angry words echoed from the courtyard walls. Anders lowered his head as Hawke stepped up behind him.

"I'm glad it's you," Anders said quietly. Only he heard the softly whispered "I love you," as Hawke laid a hand on Anders' shoulder. It tightened briefly. Anders closed his eyes, and wondered how Hawke would do it. Would he drive the blade into his back, pierce the heart that was already breaking even before he'd tried to say goodbye, back at the estate? He could feel his back itching as though in anticipation of the thrust. Even though he had known this would be his fate, was ready for death, still he felt his heart begin to race as he swallowed convulsively. A tear squeezed out from beneath tightly clenched eyelids as Hawke pressed himself against Anders' back, the hand upon his shoulder gently stroking up the side of Anders' neck. Hawke's gloved fingers lightly stroked Anders' cheek; a last, loving farewell. Anders leaned his cheek into the embrace, tears flowing freely now. Then the fingers cupped his chin, and obediently Anders tilted his head back, baring his throat.

"Sweet, merciful Cortland," Anders thought as the cold steel blade was placed across his throat, pressing against his jugular. Even after what he'd done, Hawke still loved him enough to give him a swift death. He thought longingly of the black emptiness of death; an ending to the struggling, to everything. It hurt – oh, Maker, how it hurt! - to leave the love of Cortland; but he was tired. It was time to let go. Time to let it end.

_No!_ Justice railed against him. _I will not allow us to be slaughtered like an animal!_

I'm not giving you the choice.

_Then nor shall I!_

He could feel energy begin to crackle over his skin and fought it down, even as he felt the blade tremble against his skin. He licked suddenly dry lips. He could feel the wrathful spirit gathering its energy, and felt a cold chill sheet over his skin. Fear gripped him and he clenched his hands into fists; he was suddenly deathly afraid – not of dying, but of what Justice might do to Hawke before he could finish. His lips parted; he tried to beg Hawke to hurry, but all he could manage was a brief frantically-whispered "Please!" before his throat closed, choking off further words. Justice was trying to use his own body against him, usurping control as Anders struggled for dominance. His body trembled as he tried to force Justice down.

_I will. Not. PERMIT THIS!_

Anders' eyes flew open as the air around them crackled with static, flames of energy racing across his skin. The blade against his throat wavered as Hawke stared down into his agonised face, Anders' unseeing gaze flickering from electric white to terrified brown and back again. For a brief moment it was Anders staring pleadingly up at him, and then the alien, inhuman glare of Justice, lips snarling as it attempted to say something before Anders managed to regain control enough to bite down hard upon his lip until it bled, desperately trying to cling to what vestiges remained of his own mind. The brown eyes pleaded silently with Hawke as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

Hawke tightened his grip upon the blade, setting it firmly against Anders' pale flesh as he hardened his resolve. Anders closed his eyes thankfully as the ice-cold edge bit into his skin, sagging back against Hawke as he held Justice down with every fibre of his being.

_You WILL NOT DO THISSSS!_ Justice howled fury, spirit energy racing through Anders' veins in fiery agony.

"Let me be free," breathed Anders through blood-flecked lips. "Let me go..."

Hawke trembled against his own shivering body, and suddenly the blade clattered away from them both as Hawke engulfed him in a hug, burying his face against the side of Anders' neck, his tears hot against the apostate's skin.

Anders let his head fall back upon Hawke's shoulder and cried out in despair, even as Justice screamed out in triumph silently within his mind.

"Why?" he begged, even as Hawke's arms tightened around him.

"I can't," gasped Hawke. "I can't let you go. I'm sorry... so sorry..."

Anders slumped in his embrace, his brown eyes staring dully at the sky. Hawke kissed his throat gently, cradling the fallen apostate against him. "Forgive me... please forgive me," whispered Hawke.

Anders said nothing; he merely rolled his eyes over to stare at the blade where it lay upon the cobbles. He stared at it longingly for long minutes, then closed his eyes. If he could have willed himself to death at that moment... He moaned, a long, low, hopeless sound, then turned his face towards Hawke's.

"Anders?" whispered Hawke, lifting his head slightly. Anders lay in his arms as though already dead. "Anders, please... come back to me." Fear gripped him as Anders lay unresponsive. Pulling a glove off with his teeth, he laid a hand against Anders' neck, feeling for the pulse; he breathed a sigh of relief as he felt it racing beneath the pale skin. For a moment he had thought Anders had somehow managed to will himself to death. He gently stroked the tear-streaked face as the mage lay still, barely breathing. "Come back," he repeated quietly. "Don't leave me."

Anders opened his eyes slowly, his soft brown eyes dull with pain and hurt. After long moments of staring into each others' eyes, he smiled sadly.

"Forgive me?" whispered Hawke.

"Always," Anders replied softly.

There would be no end for Anders just yet. It was out of his hands.


End file.
